For one reason or another, this has felt like a particularly stressful Christmas. I really have been trying to cut back on plans and obligations, but this pregnancy is cutting back even further on my ability to cope, so there have been numerous breakdowns this week, and they haven’t all been the Hatchling’s, if you know what I’m saying. All I want to do is sit in front of the fire and knit or read, but instead I feel obligated (by whom? No one knows!) to finish the baking, or make yet another run to Target, or do some other damn holiday-related project which only has the effect of making me more Scrooge, less Cratchit. Or something.
So anyway, given the general tenor of this year’s pre-Christmas season, it should surprise nobody that Fate has seen fit to have my Grandmother, the one who’s been slowly losing her marbles since July, die today. About 20 minutes ago, actually. She’d been hospitalized earlier this week with kidney failure and pneumonia and a host of other ills, so we knew it was only a matter of time. And I’m happy she’s gone, because she hasn’t really been alive since the summer and it was past time for her to go. But I’m also really, really sad, because she was the grandparent I was closest to and I’ll miss her so much and I wish with all my heart that my two girls could have known her. Stupid death. And stupid timing, because now of course the holiday plans are all thrown into chaos; my parents are going down south today or tomorrow and as soon as we know the funeral plans I’ll be heading down, too. If I were a more Zen person I could probably come up with something vaguely heartwarming about how it really puts everything into perspective, and how I won’t be stressing over the little things anymore but just enjoying my time with family. But I am, sadly, not in a Zen frame of mind, and stress is my major talent, so, you know. I’ll still be stressing. And sad.
Hint to Fate: now would be a REALLY good time for me to win the lottery. I’m just sayin’.
